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Spindled
December 5, 2016
I am being trampled.
needdless to say, I am
a line in the spindled paper of life.
I hear the prejudgements being
mummered in the background of the night,but
I do not mind,well, i do.
Because i am not sure of what is tearing
my skin or my heart.
I'm spindled at the wicked metal spindle of
God and life.
Carcinogenic blood crystalizing in my veins,
clogging up my love and making
self loathing take over.
© Moselle S., Le Claire, IA
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I use lowercase because it shows how I am uncertain if I am really myself or not. This is about rumors and how they make you hate yourself, even if the rumors arent true.